Incomprehension at the Beginning
by darkwings09
Summary: -Oneshot- Ryoma still haven't figure out what is the true definition of beauty. That was, until... -RyoSaku-


**Incomprehension at the Beginning**

**Darkwings09**

**All proper disclaimers apply.**

**Author's short babbles:**

**Blame it all on the school stuffs, yes? XD**

**Not really. Other times I put the blame on myself. But anyway, putting that matter aside…**

**Let's go on reading, shall we:D**

**-----**

_Beauty?_

He considers the word as a mystery in itself. As a keen observer he soon figured out that there's something there that is hidden deep in its meaning. Sometimes dictionaries are unreliable (Not that he needs one, anyway). In addition to that, although he's _obviously_ (the way Mr. Two-years-of-tennis-experience puts it) an expert in this particular field, he has yet to unfold a new clarity from his _own_ view. He fingered the tennis ball, somewhat irked. Oh sure, technically, it's a piece of cake to define that abovementioned word.

But, concerning the real meaning behind the word _beauty_; truth to be told, he's still _mada mada dane_.

No. Wait- scratch the last thought. Why use his very own arrogant words of _authority _against himself?

His brows twitched in annoyance.

As if.

"Oi, Echizen, slacking off is completely prohibited!" his spiky-haired senpai reprimanded him jokingly, accompanied by his frequent playful pat on the back. Ryoma flicked his cat-eyed gaze at him, a vague frown tugging the corners of his lips. He hoisted himself up and cast an indifferent glance around the enclosed place of the tennis clubroom.

"I wasn't slacking off, Momo-senpai," he frankly told him in a blunt fashion, rolling his eyes in accompaniment.

Indeed, he was only pondering on something that he shouldn't even bother poking his nose in. Still, since his _mild _curiosity has driven him bananas over one mere word, and since he just can't afford a _loss _against a single definition, he ought to overcome it.

He can't believe he's musing over a baloney word. More so that he's bothered by the fact that he's losing to a singular word in actuality.

Oh hell, no. The young tennis prodigy just couldn't take that.

"Whether there's a possibility or not, we're off to practice, hmm, Echizen?" replied Momo as he gently unzipped his tennis bag, reaching for his racket inside. Ryoma responded with a faint 'Usu' in agreement as he grabbed his own equipment.

-----

A pair of auburn eyes traced the flight pattern of the crow that flew at most a hundred feet from the ground. The sun's glaring rays have made the magnificent vision slightly blurred, thus the bird appeared rather hazy and shadowed from below. She merely stared, watching, observing, scrutinizing.

Snapping back to reality, she quickly glanced at her watch, wondering briefly why she drifted off to another one of her fantasies in the first place. She took hold of her lunch box (along with her _extra _one) and hasted her way towards her classroom.

She ceased her steps abruptly as she came in front of their door.

She has forgotten something, she thought, turning her gaze to the extra lunch she had prepared.

-----

Running laps was never easy. Especially when Inui's deranged-mixed juice is the _special prize _for the loser who runs last. Panting and huffing for breath, he finally pushed his legs further and bagged being first in the laps.

"Echizen, you're in a good motivation today," Seigaku's data man informed him, pushing his glasses onto the bridge of his nose, "Sadly though, you missed the chance of tasting my newly-mixed Inui juice."

A lump formed in his throat as he gulped, turning to his senpai who has that grimy smirk plastered on his face.

"Yada" he promptly protested, inwardly thanking the entities above for making him the first one to finish the last lap. He strode out of the tennis courts and wandered momentarily.

Just then, a faint thought entered his mind as he saw the setting sun in the horizon.

Beauty.

And, if added with a suffix, beautiful.

If he'd imagine a list, definitely (only) three things would make it. First: Tennis, obviously. Second: his beverage of choice, Ponta. And third: Karupin. That's all he can think of, up to this moment.

He took a sharp intake of breath and clutched his slightly pounding head.

And then he heard it- the light _–pok- _that hit the wall.

There, he caught sight of her, practicing her tennis skills against the wall.

Spotting someone else from the corners of her eyes, she paused, the neon green ball bouncing off the wall. She had almost let the ball slip from her hand as she recognized the figure standing behind her.

"…Ryoma-kun?" she murmured as she vaguely swiveled around to face him. He pulled down to his eyes the brim of his cap and nodded, feeling hunger building up within him.

Well, he'll be damned.

She nervously fiddled with the handle of her racket, finding no heart to speak words. Um, well, no. Sort of. Perhaps its better to pertain the last statement that she finds the heart to utter words, but found those words stuck in the tip of her tongue.

"…A-Anou," she stuttered, looking bravely up at him, "…Have you eaten your lunch, Ryoma-kun?"

Recalling the spare lunch she had brought along, she silently thanked the reason why she reached school tad a bit late than usual.

"No," he admitted finally, realizing the thought of 'Come to think of it, I haven't eaten _yet.' _For a brief moment, he wondered where on earth did he get the strength to run earlier ago. His golden eyes were fixed on her auburn ones, searching for _something_ that even his mind didn't know what.

"Ah," she mumbled, trying to come up with a better excuse why she has to ask him, "…A-Anou, if it doesn't bother Ryoma-kun-"

"-You can have lunch with Sakuno here, ne, Ryoma-sama? She made an extra lunch just for you," the brown head interrupted in an exclaimed tone, putting a hand on Sakuno's shoulder. The twin-braided girl turned bright red in embarrassment, biting her lower lip in the process. A furtive grin tugged the corners of her lips.

"T-Tomo-chan-!"

It was all that she can say.

Before Ryoma could reply, another voice chimed in.

"Oi, Echizen! We don't have time to have a tea party with your _girlfriends_!" Momo chided him almost teasingly with Inui by his side. The latter seem to murmur something that resembles an infamous 'Ii. Data' statement, jotting down some of his precious information on a green notebook.

_Girlfriends?_

Heh. Such a funny thought.

"Urusai, Momo-senpai!"

-----

Almost three years have passed, and his negligence on other useless things was inevitable and known. As expected, he was entitled team captain of the Seigaku tennis club, 'Echizen-buchou'. _She_, incidentally, was the first one to congratulate him. Ryuuzaki-sensei only informed the other former regulars a bit later, when everything else was confirmed.

He smirked to himself after reading Tezuka's message of congratulations, folding it neatly before sliding it back to the envelope. He tore his gaze from the writings of their former buchou to the pink blossoms that danced magnificently along with the wind.

Beautiful 

Oddly enough, none of his fanatical fangirls have caught his attention. Fully (with a capital F). Hence, they have no right to be labeled as to anyone having _'beauty'_ in his case. They vexed him to no end, even if he showed no complaint. They're all blabbermouths, loud and crazy, not one of them has an exemption.

Maybe with the exception of one; a certain Ms. 'Hair-is-too-long'.

Right. Her.

He mused on how her attitude remained untouched.

The same quiet, meek and klutzy girl she is.

Cute.

Wait- what? If he _did _think of that matter, he didn't sense it coming. Clearly enough, the definition of _cute _is way different from that of beautiful. Totally unlike.

Besides, he cared less about it in the first place.

If he'd imagine a list, definitely (only) three things would make it. First: Tennis, obviously. Second: his drink of choice, Ponta. And third: Karupin. That's all he can think of, up to this moment.

That is, _up to this moment._

------

"Game and match, won by Echizen, 6-1! "

Thunders of wild cheers and sounds of congratulations roared in his ears as he walked to the net to shake hands with his opponent. He could've shown his arrogance but for some unknown reason, he felt glad that he decided that he shouldn't.

"Whoa, Echizen, amazing as always!" Momo exclaimed, a triumphant grin gracing his features. It's a good thing that he bumped on Kikumaru on his way to a tennis shop, though. He could've missed his kouhai's match.

"Domou," Ryoma uttered as he tugged down the rim of his cap so that it shadowed his eyes.

"Nyah! That's o'chibi for you!" Kikumaru said almost noisily, putting his hands at the back of his head.

-----

As he slumped back to a nearby bench to quench his thirst, rabid fangirls trailed after him, and throngs of them did. A sigh escaped his lips as he promptly stated his thanks on the deafening congratulations he received. Infuriating though they may be, he can't shoo them away that _easily._

He spotted someone who caught his attention, figuring it was a certain Ryuuzaki Sakuno. He looked at her for a brief moment, waiting, his eyes _questioning._

She can't approach him; she was too timid to do so. Especially with the fangirls surrounding him, there's no way that she'd move towards him without being noticed by _everybody _else.

Mou…

-----

Another three years have passed. His level of maturity took an advanced step for the first time, but that didn't change almost anything. Putting that matter aside, he was vaguely surprised that he has to attend the same high school with her. Well, it's better than nothing, right?

"Hair's too long"

_-Pok-_

"Knees too bent"

"Mou, Ryoma-kun!" she droned, the uneasiness coloring her voice. Sakuno immediately caught the tennis ball in her hand as it bounced off the wall. Really, does he have to say that all the time?

A playful smirk tugged the corners of his lips.

Her brown hair was long all right, but not the same long one that she kept neatly tied with hair bands a few years ago. Perhaps she decided on her own to cut her hair a bit short, or her grandmother must've forced her to do so. Either way, he can visibly see that she no longer don those freakishly lengthy braids. Besides…

…Come to think of it, it _does _suit her pretty well.

-----

_Beautiful _

He thought to himself as she presented him another neon green ball that was tainted with a few black-marked inks. Another ball that stated about him being the number one player in the _world. _It gives him that nostalgic feeling, again.

She smiled sweetly, shyly giving him a peck on the cheek.

"…Happy Birthday, Ryoma-kun…"

"Domou," he murmured as he leaned over to her, his breath quite ticklish against her ear. She flinched upon his action, blushing. Typical.

He didn't mean to be slightly sentimental or anything but…

…It was, by far, the most thoughtful gift he had ever received.

-----

Now, five years have passed. Tennis is still the number one matter in his heart. Ponta is still his valued beverage. Karupin, well, the poor thing was run over by a truck in an accident that almost killed the driver, too. It died, painfully, and Ryoma still remembers where he had dug its grave. But his Himalayan cat left a kitten that serves as the splitting image of its father. His old man must've named him Karupin the second or something. That, he wouldn't have to find out for himself.

Generally, nothing changed.

Still.

----

It seems to him that a heavy typhoon was in sight.

Knowing that she has a phobia of thunders and lightning, she warily closed the windows and drew the curtains together, rendering the whole room to darkness.

"There," she said, returning to where Ryoma sits, "…satisfied now?"

"Better," he replied, seeing her close her weary eyes and smile amiably at him, "…Domou."

She laid her aching head on the soft comfy pillow on his bed beside him, waiting for recognition. It seemed like something's bothering him. Concerned as she is as always, she questioned him about it.

Softly, she murmured, "…Is something wrong, Ryoma-"

She was abruptly cut off short when she felt his hands cupping her cheeks. Her face flushed red in discomfiture as she coyly turned her gaze up at him. Her heart was pounding against her chest as thought it will explode, her breathing almost became labored. She just couldn't get used to it.

"-kun?"

A naughty smirk graced his features, caressing her soft skin with his thumb as he traced it down to her chin.

Beautiful 

"Betsu ni…"

He planted a deep, fervent kiss on her lips as she subconsciously put a hand on his chest.

-----

"Ohayou"

"Ohayou, Ryoma-kun! Breakfast's ready!"

"Ne, what's with the customary –kun?"

"I've always called Ryoma-kun that way. It sounded foreign if I'll call you-"

"Ryoma. Ryoma would be fine"

"H-Hai… Ryoma- eh,"

There were times when he'd forget the _real _meaning of appreciative beauty. Oftentimes he'd forget the word eventually. Beautiful and beauty, nah, these words almost meant nothing to him. Then again, as he would touch the creamy texture of her skin, he'd remember.

Tennis.

Ponta.

Karupin-that-was-before.

Plus, a certain _Echizen _Sakuno.

-----

**Finished. A truckload of thanks for those who read this!**

**R and R if you please. Domou Arigatou!**


End file.
